The late morning light spills into her space—part sanctuary, part sketchpad of a beautifully composed life. It’s the kind of calm, refined atmosphere that defines Ivy Almario interior design: elegant, textural, and deeply intentional. The room hums with quiet grace—a soft symphony of tones and thoughtful restraint.
Her condo in Ponte Salcedo, a boutique residential tower in Salcedo Village, Makati, has just undergone a renovation. “I wanted, for some reason, a very Belgian feel,” Ivy shares. “So my first choice was the wood planks. Then the linen upholstery on the walls.”
This shift toward a minimalist palette is a new chapter for her—calm, clean, but never sterile. There’s warmth in the wood, softness in the textiles, and intention in every curated piece. Her aesthetic is cosmopolitan but deeply personal, shaped by global influences and a constant curiosity about beauty in all its forms.
There’s an energy to the space—not loud, but alive. Ideas hover in the air like dust caught in light. It’s a world built by someone who sees design not just as structure, but as soul.
The Designer and the Woman Behind the Craft
Ivy Almario sits comfortably, almost nestled into her chair, surrounded by the forms and fragments she has loved into being. She is quick to laugh—her giggle light, unguarded, and contagious. When you spend time with her, she connects fully. She listens, engages, speaks her mind—but always with kindness.
Beneath her easy charm is a deeply observant mind. She notices everything—the shift in your tone, the flicker in your expression—and in a split second, she can catch an irony, or even a more sinister joke, without anyone saying a word. Sharp-witted yet gentle, she welcomes you into her world with grace.
Presence, Vision, and a Life Fiercely Lived
Her laughter reflects a life fiercely lived—from mastering the language of interior design to leading the profession itself as president of the Philippine Institute of Interior Designers (PIID) from 2021 to 2023, the country’s official organization for licensed interior designers.
What sets Ivy apart is not just her aesthetic, but her clarity. She is not lost in abstraction, nor locked in ego—and that’s what makes her such a powerful manifestor of ideas. Grounded in the fundamentals of architecture and design, yet attuned to the realities of human nature, she holds vision in one hand and guides with the other—not with force, but with calm conviction.
She is a problem solver by training. And she solves problems by design.
Building More Than Spaces
In the world of interior design, few names carry the same weight—or stir the same emotion—as Ivy Almario. The Ivy Almario interior design philosophy is more than aesthetic—it’s a legacy of discipline, intuition, and quiet innovation.
A trailblazer, mentor, and master of her craft, she has shaped not just spaces, but the very framework of the profession. Known for her refined style and architectural precision, Ivy was instrumental in advancing interior design as a licensed and respected practice in the Philippines.
Today, she reflects not just on what happened, but on what it all meant. Time has sharpened her memory, softened some of the pain, and deepened the wisdom behind her words.
This is not a story told about her. It is one told with her—in her own rhythm, with her own grace.
The Studio, the Sisterhood
Together with her sister Cynthia, she co-founded Atelier Almario, one of the country’s most respected design studios. Their portfolio spans from the historic halls of the Manila Hotel to contemporary condominiums like Edades and Arya Residences.
Whether it’s a beachfront home in Punta Fuego, a leisure estate in Bacolod, or a sanctuary in Bali, her spaces carry a quiet precision. Proportion, flow, emotion—everything in balance.
Generations of designers have studied her work not just for its elegance, but for its integrity. She’s influenced not just how interiors look—but how interior designers think.
But beyond the accolades is a deeper story. This isn’t just about career highlights. It’s about intuition, grief, reinvention—and love. Not just a portrait of a professional life.
A rendering of a fully lived one. She’s not here to give a lecture or rattle off achievements. She’s telling a story. Her story.
The First Line: A Child’s Perspective
“I remember the moment clearly,” Ivy begins. Her voice softens as she revisits that memory, still vivid decades later. She was twelve, wandering into a freshly redone dining room at her aunt’s house in Horseshoe Drive. It wasn’t grand. But something about it—how the table sat just right in the room, how the light fell across polished wood—stopped her in her tracks.
Her aunt, Myrna Almario Adriano, had just completed a correspondence course with the New York School of Interior Design. That space was her first project. And to Ivy, it felt different. Considered. Calming. Alive.
“I didn’t have the words for it then,” she says, “but I knew that space was speaking to me.”
She didn’t know it yet, but something inside her had been set alight. A world-class designer—still unformed, still unknown—even to herself, was born in that moment. “That room was telling me who I was going to be. I just didn’t know it yet.”
That afternoon, a door opened. It didn’t just show her what design looked like—it showed her what life could feel like, when everything was in its right place. Design wasn’t just decoration. It was a way to see the world—and maybe, to shape it too.
“That room was telling me who I was going to be. I just didn’t know it yet.”
From First Spark to Design Legacy
“UST was my only choice,” Ivy says without hesitation. She didn’t apply anywhere else. Didn’t prepare a Plan B. She had always been sure of herself—and this was no exception.
The University of Santo Tomas, with its formidable reputation in fine arts and interior design, was where the serious ones went. And she was serious.
But even the most certain paths come with humbling starts.”One of my first perspective plates got an F. Not because it was wrong—but because the professor knew it wasn’t mine. I let someone help me.”
She pauses. “It was mortifying. But it was also necessary. That moment taught me about integrity. About owning the work.”
For someone who had always excelled, failure was unfamiliar—and jarring. But in hindsight? “That F was the beginning. It forced me to ask myself: do you really want this? And my answer was yes.”
So she made herself a promise: “I will master this.”
Learning to See, Learning to Stand
Looking back, she credits two things that held her steady: a thesis she was proud of—and the quiet confidence that came from knowing she had put in the work. Long nights. Hard lessons. No shortcuts. She knew she had earned her place.
“That portfolio? It was my thesis. And it got me my first job in the U.S.—not as an assistant, but as an actual design professional.”
With time, she began to understand what was really taking shape in those years. “I wasn’t just learning how to draw. I was learning how to see. And how to stand on my own.”
Every line she drew after that carried something more: resolve. This wasn’t just a career. It was a quiet vow to herself.
“I wasn’t just learning how to draw. I was learning how to see. And how to stand on my own.”
A Shift Toward Mastery
From that moment on, everything changed. Ivy became meticulous—almost obsessive. She sketched late into the night, mapped the path of light with precision, and rendered shadows down to the thread of a single screw.
They saw it almost immediately—the precision, the discipline. Without much fuss, she was moved to a more advanced department. It would turn out to be a life-changing shift.
A Studio In Beverly Hills
Los Angeles wasn’t just a stop in Ivy Almario’s journey—it was the proving ground that sharpened her design instincts and creative discipline. Immersed in the world of five-star hospitality and luxury real estate, she worked behind the scenes on some of the most high-profile design bids in the country.
At the time, Ivy had founded Asian Design Resource, a boutique rendering studio based in Beverly Hills. Her task was clear: create visual narratives compelling enough to win multimillion-dollar contracts. She translated sketches into visions—images that could evoke emotion and trust before a single wall was built.
Through her work, she helped shape design proposals for the Ritz-Carlton in Laguna Niguel, Four Seasons Maui, St. Regis in Asia, and luxury residences throughout Bel Air and Palm Springs. These weren’t just properties. They were spaces where experience, identity, and storytelling converged.
The pressure was immense. Timelines were brutal. But Ivy thrived.
Learning From Legends
In Los Angeles, Ivy found herself collaborating with some of the most respected names in global hospitality design: Howard Hirsch, Michael Bedner, and Louis Cataffo—designers behind icons like the Ritz-Carlton and Four Seasons.
“They were geniuses,” she recalls. “I had a front-row seat to how they thought. What struck me was their lack of arrogance. The best ones were kind. And they taught me that real talent doesn’t need to shout.”
One moment stands out. Ivy was in her Beverly Hills office, working on a rendering for the Beverly Hills Hotel. Around the table sat Howard Hirsch, Michael Bedner, and her partner, Michael Hackett—design giants whose presence made the moment almost surreal.
At her office “I was just sitting there, watching them talk,” Ivy says. “I was pinching myself. The head of the number one hospitality design firm in the world was in my office. It was like—wow.”
What she gained wasn’t just mastery of the craft—it was a deeper understanding of creative leadership. Listening before speaking. Welcoming ideas without ego. Designing with clarity, humility, and care.
A PhD in interior design—and a masterclass in graceful leadership.
A Sacred Pause: When the Body Breaks
Before Ivy even considered coming home, a personal tragedy brought everything to a halt.
She gave birth to a stillborn child. Then her body broke down. Sepsis set in. What followed was a silence that no design or drawing could fill.
“In that light,” she says, “I bargained for my life, knowing I hadn’t done enough. Not yet.”
And in that moment, she adds, “I felt a love I had never known before. A love that eclipsed human understanding. I grew up Catholic, so I can call it divine. But it was deeper than religion. It was sacred.”
That moment changed her—not by softening her ambition, but by deepening its roots.
She began to see her work not just as a job, or even as art, but as healing. Design became prayer. Spaces became sanctuaries.
Eventually, she would carry a second pregnancy to term—a son. And together, they would make their journey back home to the Philippines.
“The harshest judgment,” she reflects, “is often the one we pass on ourselves.”
And in the many challenges, personal turmoils, and struggles that would come after, it was that core—her refusal to judge herself—that allowed her to rise again.
Not harder, but gentler and stronger.
“It was her core—her refusal to judge herself—that allowed her to rise again. Not harder, but gentler. And stronger.”
Coming Home: Manila Hotel and the Turning Point
After 15 years in the United States, Ivy had drawn an inner condition: she would only return to Manila if the right project came along. Quietly, she doubted it would. “I had a good life in LA,” she says. “Designing, building a studio, raising my 2 sons.” But fate had other plans.
Asian Design Resource, her Los Angeles–based studio, was awarded the renovation of the historic Manila Hotel—winning over ten international firms. It was the kind of project she’d almost dared not hope for.
“The scale, the legacy, the expectations—it was daunting,” she admits. “But my training in the U.S. gave me the confidence to take it on.”
More commissions followed—resorts, estates, residences. But Manila Hotel was the pivot: the bridge between her life abroad and a deeper calling at home.
It also revealed local industry challenges: inconsistencies in furniture scale, unreliable contractors, misaligned project timelines. Ivy met these head-on, with quiet firmness. “Clients here deserve world-class standards. And we could deliver that.”
Her return wasn’t just physical—it was transformational. She wasn’t just designing spaces anymore. She was setting standards; raising the bar for what Filipino design could be.
Atelier Almario: Collaboration as Art
If Ivy’s career had been built on personal mastery, Atelier Almario was built on shared vision. “We’re very different,” Ivy says of her sister. “I’m the structure. She’s the softness.”
Ivy shapes the space. Cynthia layers the soul. And together, they create design that doesn’t just impress—it resonates.
What makes their firm stand out is not just skill, but intention. “We don’t bulldoze our ideas,” Ivy says. “We listen and immerse ourselves in the space, plant seeds and let it bloom.”
She is firm, but never harsh. Their collaborators are chosen with care. Their clients are treated as partners. Every detail matters—because every home, hotel, or haven they touch is a place where someone will live a real, complicated, beautiful life.
Take a peek inside their world.
For more behind-the-scenes stories, design journeys, and sisterly wisdom, explore the Atelier Almario YouTube Channel—where Ivy and Cynthia open the doors to real homes, real ideas, and real joy in design.
Rendering a Life in Full
Among creative professions, interior design might be the most intimate. It’s about vision, yes—but also empathy. Not just what a room looks like, but how it will feel. Not just where the light will fall—but what it will illuminate.
Ivy Almario lives in that quiet space between the visible and the felt. She envisions, she manifests, and she makes room—for possibility, for meaning, for grace.
“When you design with joy, with imagination,” she says, “the solutions come. The possibilities open.”
That ethos didn’t just shape her interiors—it shaped her life.
Even now, she’s still learning. Still observing. Still sketching—on paper, in practice, and in spirit.
“Working with actors and celebrities like Korina Sanchez, Anne Curtis, Regine Velasquez, Charo Santos, Kris Aquino, Boy Abunda, and Coco Martin—one thing stands out: they’re consummate professionals. Once you’re brought into the project, they trust you. They give you space to create—and that trust fuels the magic.”
There’s deep respect for your work as an interior designer, precisely because they understand what it means to commit fully to their own craft. Nakakabusog ng puso.
In a life filled with accolades, what Ivy is proudest of isn’t a project or an award—it’s being a good mother to her sons, Kenji and Mikey.
She doesn’t just design rooms. She renders lives. And in the spaces she’s touched, her presence lingers—quiet, kind, and full of soul.
Follow Atelier Almario:
Website: www.atelieralmario.com
Instagram: @atelieralmario
Facebook: Atelier Almario
Also read: From Manila to MICHELIN: How Filipina Chef Francés Tariga is Changing the Game in New York
